Part Three-This World Is Not Our Own

It was probably some sort of cosmic joke.

That had to be the only explanation for this. It was all some big joke on the part of the higher powers. Then, all the times that it happened would make sense. This kept happening to him because some force outside of himself desired that it would happen, time and time again. That made sense to him.

But it didn't make him like it any bit better.

Rupert Giles winced in pain as he tried to stand up, ignoring the pain traveling up and down his back as he got to his feet. He had been laying in bed for a few hours now and though his nurses seemed to think that he was in no condition to be walking, he was intent on getting out of this room. Many things had happened after the battle with the First and if he ever planned on figuring out what those things were in particular, he better get himself up and out of bed.

Giles grunted at the effort it took just to get vertical. He clutched at the cane in his hand, glad that one of the nurses had the foresight of bringing him one. This way he could keep his balance better, loading off some of his weight to this stick and still make some sort of process.

Though that process was not something to be marvelled at.

A full hour of trying had yielded him entirely exhausted and barely three feet from his bed. Giles was a bit embarrassed by his own weakness, but he refused to sit down again. He had to get out of here, to get out there. He had heard the nurses talking when they thought he was still out cold. He had heard them say many things, some which gave him hope and some that made his heart sink.

He knew that some of his companions were awake and wandering around this place right at this very moment. He was well aware there were other injured parties out there as well, some who had not yet recovered at all. But worse, he knew that there were some out there who didn't make it at all. He had heard those healers talking, heard their sad murmurings.

Twelve had been found dead. He did not know who found them, or where they all had been brought once they were found, but he knew that somewhere nearby, twelve of his comrades were dead. Faces and names floated around his brain and there was no way he could just lay back and wonder. He had to know who was here with him, who had survived and who had not.

His fear for his friends fuelled him, pushing him to keep moving, to keep walking to that door. He struggled quite a bit, biting his lip to keep from crying in pain. Sweat dotted his forehead as he exerted himself, triumphant once his hand fell on the door handle. He pulled it open with great satisfaction, stepping out of the doorway. His legs faltered in that second and Giles knew he had spent what precious energy he had as he fell to the floor.

Hands appeared out of nowhere, steadying him almost immediately. Giles sagged in relief, turning his head upwards to thank the person who had caught him.

"Geez G-Man, what are you doing up?"

A smile touched his face as he was helped into an upright position. Xander slung one of Giles's arms around his shoulders, bracing the older man with an arm around his waist. He started when he felt someone do the same on his other side, turning to see Faith watching him with a sad smile tilting her lips. Giles felt a flood of relief looking at the two of them. Both were awake and alert, and most certianly not dead.

"Xander, have I not told you to stop calling me that?" Giles finally replied, facing the other man and giving him a fond look. "You are both well, right?"

"As right as rain," Xander quipped, his face falling suddenly into a frown. "Well, okay, that's a lie. Faith here has a sprained ankle and excessive bruising. My ribs have been wrapped up and I'm pretty sure that burning sensation on my right arm means that I have a wound there. But other than that, we're both okay."

"How about you Giles?" Faith asked, giving the man a careful one-over. "Where are you hurt?"

Giles flushed and grasped his cane.

"I don't think that's of great importance," he muttered unhappily. Xander frowned at the man, nodding towards the cane in his hand.

"Since you have to use that and can barely walk, I say it is," the dark-haired man countered. "So tell us? It's not permanent or whatever, right?"

"It's not permanent," Giles assured him. "At least, I hope it is not. But if you must know, I sustained an injury to my back that makes my walking very painful."

Faith arched an eyebrow, leaning around the man and tracing her hand up his spine.

"No bandages," she commented dryly. Giles blushed, clearing his throat in embarrassment.

"It's further down," he mumbled. Faith stopped, giving the older man a look before exchanging an amused glance with Xander.

"You got shot in the butt again, huh?" Xander clucked his tongue in sympathy. Giles scowled, giving both a measuring glare.

"Can we not discuss this now?" he grumbled. "Come on, we need to get moving."

"I don't think you're in much the right condition to be moving at all," Faith murmured thoughtfully. "Maybe we should just get you back in bed-"

"Absolutely not!" Giles barked. "In case you have not noticed, we are in a world that is not our own. Our friends are scattered about this building, in various states of ill health, and I will not go rest until I have found out who is alive and who is . . ."

"Not?" Xander finished for him. "You heard about the twelve, right?"

Giles nodded, a feeling of fatigue suddenly filling his body. He gave both a grim look.

"I cannot just lay back and wonder who is gone," he confided in them. Faith nodded in understanding, propping the older man up and beginning to lead him down a corridor. Xander followed, helping Faith support the man as they made their way down the hallway.

It was at this point where Giles realized that they were not alone. Two guards had stood just behind them and now were following the trio has they walked away from Giles's room.

"Um, who are they?"

"Our shadows," Faith answered simply. "They've been following us around wherever we go. I think they're supposed to make sure that we don't run off to create havoc or something."

"So they know you well?" Giles grinned. Faith pouted as Xander chuckled in response to the other man's words.

"Well, your mouth seems to be working just fine," the brunette Slayer grumbled, but with a smile on her face. "Good thing too, because we might need it later on. And I actually mean that in a non-dirty kind of way. You're kind of the only diplomatic one among us."

"The lady makes a good point," Xander agreed. "After all, once we find everyone, we're going to need to sort this all out. That might work better if our hosts like us. And if we let me or Faith do the talking, that's probably not going to happen."

"You're both quite mad," Giles sighed, struggling to keep in step with his companions. "Are any of the others awake yet?"

"We heard that someone else is," Xander admitted. "I think one of the nice healing ladies said it was another woman."

"But then she got all flustered and ran away," Faith added. "Which kind of makes me think that Buffy is up and barking orders at them."

"Or Willow is up and she made with the mojo," Xander suggested. "Either way, not a good way to be starting our stay here. Wills is kind of scary when she pulls out the old magic."

"And it is most likely that we will need that scary power before this is all over," Giles continued. "Whatever happened, I believe only Willow's magic can fix it."

"Not all of it," Faith sighed, biting her lip as she looked down at her feet. "There's nothing she can do about Robin and the others."

"Robin, oh Faith, I am truly sorry."

Faith nodded at his words, wiping absently at her eyes before clearing her throat.

"He's not the only one," she shrugged. "Anya . . ."

"Anya!" Giles gasped, turning his head to look at Xander. The young man's face had darkened and closed off, pain radiating in his brown eyes as he stubbornly set his jaw.

"We knew we would lose some," was all Xander had to say. Giles nodded, not wanting to push the man any further than he was willing to go. Instead, finding that they had turned down a busy corridor, Giles watched in interest as people seemed to clear a path for them as they walked.

"Frightened, aren't they?" he mused. Faith snorted, shaking her head a bit.

"You have no idea," the brunette growled. "They won't even give us any straight answers. The Stoic Twins back there aren't any help either. I seriously think that no one wants us to know what's going on."

"But where are the others?" Giles asked, looking up and down the hallways. There were only closed door as far as he could see.

"They're in these rooms," Faith replied. "But sometimes, they won't let us into them. Andrew's in that one on the end. He seems okay, though still sleeping it off. Buffy's in the room next to him, but they won't let us in after the first time. They said they didn't want us riling her up or whatever."

"Is she all right?" Giles asked softly.

"She's fine," Xander replied. "Well, as fine as a person can be with a hole in their stomach. But fine nonetheless."

"The others are sleeping and stuff," Faith continued. "They wouldn't even let us go in to check on Amanda. Didn't make me feel any better if you want to know."

Giles opened his mouth to reply, but a sharp scream cut off anything he had to say. Faith and Xander both turned to the sound of the scream, Faith dropping her arm from around Giles's waist as she stepped forward.

"Did anyone else think that sounded like Red?" she asked. Without waiting for a reply, the brunette was off, limping in the direction the scream had come from. Xander gripped Giles tightly by the waist, propelling himself and the older man after the Slayer. Xander watched as Faith reached the right door, yanking it open and jumping inside. He and Giles followed, the Watcher trying to aid their movement by making use of his cane. Pain began to shoot down his legs again, but he ignored it, too concerned with Willow's safety at this point.

Both men rushed through the door, momentarily surprised to see a sword being levelled their way. A very angry dark-haired man held the sword, his gaze hard and measuring as he looked them over. Xander gulped and raised his free hand.

"We come in peace?" he offered meekly. All he got was an arched eyebrow in response. Giles was startled when he heard a voice ring out, the words being spoken entirely too foreign for him.

"Aragorn, uuma dela sen ikotane."

"Lle cael beika-dur e' sen."

"What did they say?" Xander asked Giles quietly. Giles merely shrugged, turning his eyes away from the feuding men and spying Faith and Willow in the corner. His eyes went wide as he looked at the witch, too stunned to make words.

"Wills?" Xander called, his tone shocked. Faith and Willow turned to face them, Willow's face one of panic while Faith looked very lost.

"I don't think I can call her Red anymore."

Translations:

Aragorn, uuma dela sen ikotane-Aragorn, don't worry them so.

Lle cael beika-dur e' sen-You have excessive faith in them.